Saucer (37 page)

“Perhaps you would like to say a few words to the public, answer some questions from the press?”

“No, thank you,” said Rip Cantrell. “The president is here. He has asked to meet you.” Rip tried to decline graciously. “I voted for the other guy. Maybe some other time, huh, when I’m older.”

With that he led Charley and Egg out of the administrative suite by a side door, picked his way through the crowd. They wound up on the balcony, looked at the saucer on the main floor below surrounded by people.

Anonymous bits of humanity, they were pushed and shoved until they found themselves against the balcony rail. Egg gestured at the Spirit of St. Louis. “You made the right decision, Rip. This is where the saucer belongs.” He put his elbows on the rail, intent on the scene below.

Rip and Charley found themselves being pressed together by the warm, restless crowd. “You can kiss me again, if you want,” Charley whispered.

On the main floor below, the president and senior congressional leaders were examining the saucer, touching it, running their hands over the landing gear and rocket nozzles as the museum security staff and Secret Service held back the crowd.

A half hour later, out on the street, Rip asked, “Is there a decent restaurant not too far?”

As they walked, Egg asked, “Why did you decide to donate the saucer to the museum?”

Rip told them about the night at the lake, about Hedrick and Taggart and the German test pilot. Charley Pine gripped his hand even tighter. “So what did you do with the bodies?”

“I recycled them. Mauna Loa in Hawaii is erupting.” The weight of the saucer was gone from his shoulders, the sun felt good, Charley’s hand felt terrific… It was time to shift gears, to come back to earth. “What’s with the briefcase, Uncle?”

“Patents. Remember the computer you and I took out of the saucer?”

“Yeah.”

“I figured out how to wire a laser printer to it. This morning Charley and I filed twenty-six patents on saucer technology.”

“Twenty-six?”

“Wellstar sent us a couple of engineers to help with the applications. You remember Dutch Haagen? He works for us now.”

Rip shook his head in amazement. Egg continued, “We figure if we can do maybe three patent applications a week for the next ten weeks or so, we’ll pretty well have the critical stuff covered. I put all three of our names on the patent applications, signed for you as your attorney in fact.”

“Okay, but…”

“You may recall that we gave Wellstar an interest in the propulsion technology in return for a bill of sale. I thought we might license the propulsion stuff, make enough money to keep me in a nursing home and you and Charley in tall cotton. With your consent, I thought we might put the rest of the patents in the public domain, make them available to whoever wants to use them, anywhere in the world.”

Rip grinned broadly. “Sounds great to me. Charley, what do you say?”

“The saucer used to belong to everyone, didn’t it? Now it will again. I like that.”

Rip and Charley had walked a couple of blocks hand in hand when Charley remarked, “Do you realize that we don’t have anything to fly?”